


I Want To Be What You Need

by ozhawk



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Canon Grant Ward, HYDRA Trash Party, M/M, spoilers for s03e04
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-23
Updated: 2015-10-23
Packaged: 2018-04-27 15:52:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5054755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ozhawk/pseuds/ozhawk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>Could not believe no one had written Kebo/Ward into anything AoS yet! Had to fix that. Hope you like it!</em>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Want To Be What You Need

 [](http://s1383.photobucket.com/user/Catherine_Bilson/media/Miscllaneous/kebo%20and%20ward_zpsxompmm4t.jpg.html)

“You’re hurt, Director,” Kebo said, startled, as Grant tried to sit up and failed, his left arm giving way underneath him.

“It’s a graze, I’ll be fine. Get us out of here.” Grant looked back. They were barely out of firing range, and still Hunter was shooting at them far too accurately, bullets pinging off the truck’s bodywork.

 _Fuck_. Months of work, thousands of dollars of inventory, and some of his best men, lost. All because Kebo hadn’t identified Bobbi’s boyfriend as a plant.

That said, Grant had to admire the little bastard. Took some nerve, walking into an enemy stronghold unarmed like that. And Kebo said he’d killed Spud. Grant grinned mirthlessly. _SHIELD ain’t so high and mighty as they claim_.

“We’re heading for the nearest safe house,” Kebo pulled off his jacket, made a pad for it for Grant to lie on. “Get you patched up there, sir.”

“Yes.” The pain in his back was turning into a stinging, burning agony. He tried to block it out, to mute the screaming in his mind. “The bullet – it’s still in. You’ll have to get it out,” Grant mumbled, just before passing out.

He woke up lying on a soft bed, made a quick mental assessment. His back hurt, but a lot less than it had. There was a thick pad secured over it, a wound dressing, he assessed. There’d been stitches, from the way his skin pulled when he moved his left arm fractionally.

“You awake, sir?” Kebo bent over him, and Grant suppressed a flinch. The big Brit had no particular reason to love him, after Grant had knocked him out the first time they met, and then set the von Strucker brat on him. He believed in Grant’s vision, sure, but right now, when Grant was at his most vulnerable…

“Think you can sit up, Director? Are you thirsty?”

There was only genuine concern in Kebo’s hazel-eyed gaze.

“Yeah,” Grant agreed finally, and a strong arm curved around his shoulders, lifted him carefully while pillows were tucked behind his back. He had to bite back a shout of pain, but then there was relief as Kebo laid him back again.

“Here you go, sir.” A cup was brought to his lips, a straw sticking out of it. “We don’t have anyone who can competently put in an IV…”

“I can,” Grant mumbled before sipping.

“Yeah, well ya prob’ly don’t need one now, do ya?” Kebo chuckled rustily, perched a hip on the edge of the bed, still holding the cup. “Your back’s a nasty mess, boss,” he said without preamble. “That round dug a big furrow into your shoulder muscle. Missed your spinal vertebrae by less than an inch.”

Grant grimaced. “It’s my left arm. I’ll be fine.”

“You gotta let us take care of you, boss,” Kebo’s caress to his jaw was feather-light, so light that for a moment Grant thought he’d imagined it. “Let _me_ take care of you.”

There was no mistaking the way Kebo’s eyes had darkened, though, his voice turning husky on the last words.

“Why?” Grant rasped out, suddenly finding it hard to breathe.

“You talked about the woman you lost, how she died in your arms. I lost someone too, to SHIELD, when HYDRA came out of the shadows. Maybe – maybe we can comfort each other.” Kebo’s gaze never wavered, though Grant saw him swallow hard.

It had been a long time since Grant had felt sexual attraction. A long time since sex had been anything more than duty, or a means to an end. He pushed down traitorous thoughts of Skye – _she hates my guts_ – and smiled slowly at Kebo.

“I’m not much use right now, though.” Even moving the fingers of his left hand hurt.

“Right now I just want to take care of you, sir,” Kebo said quietly, and his fingers stroked Grant’s cheek again. “I want to be what you need.” The last few words were almost inaudible.

Inwardly, Grant smirked. _Guess I really am everybody’s type_. Outwardly, he smiled at Kebo. “I think – maybe you could be _exactly_ what I need.”

The Brit smiled eagerly, but he didn’t lean in to try and kiss Grant, as he’d half-expected. Instead he slid down the bed, pushing the sheet down, reaching to place his hand over Grant’s already half-hard cock, inside his boxers.

“May I, sir?”

“You may,” Grant told him graciously, and was rewarded by Kebo’s surprisingly nice smile. A moment later he groaned and squeezed his eyes shut as he discovered just what the other man could do with his mouth.

 _You can’t buy loyalty_ , Grant Ward thought, laying back and relaxing into his second-in-command’s ministrations, _but you sure can fuck your way to it. And it’s a helluva lot more pleasurable._

 


End file.
